


Megalomania

by mr-finch (soubriquet)



Category: Lost
Genre: Ben bleeds again, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-29
Updated: 2012-09-29
Packaged: 2017-11-15 07:29:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/524721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soubriquet/pseuds/mr-finch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Waking up to another body next to him, Ben instantly reaches for his knife, but finds its hiding place empty and his wrist immediately seized.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Megalomania

**Author's Note:**

> Uploading old work. Sorry!

Waking up to another body next to him, Ben instantly reaches for his knife, but finds its hiding place empty and his wrist immediately seized. As he’s turned roughly over on his front, all he can think is _here it comes, here it comes, here’s your death, talk, talk for the island’s sake_ , “Hey-” he begins, but is interrupted by a hiss in his ear, as a man’s weight pins him across his back and the grip tightens:

“Is this enough attention for you?”

“Well you’ve certainly got my _attention,_ ” Ben hazards into the pillow, simultaneously moving his free hand into a better position in order to make a stab for freedom, but then that hand is pinned as well and he’s left irate, buzzing.

“You don’t even know who I am…” the guy begins, in a voice so confident it comes out like drizzled honey, “ _Do_ you? All of this time, and still nothing.” He leans closer, the rustle of his breath so near Ben feels they ought to be touching. “I’m disappointed in you, Ben.”

“Who are you?” Ben says, demanding answer, all the while trying to work out a way to escape and not keeping his whole mind on the speech enough to work it out.

There’s a pause, and then all of a sudden the guy leans back, taking his weight off, and immediately Ben launches himself backward, but before the back of his head can connect with the man’s face, it’s grabbed and his own momentum is used against him to slam his face into the floor again. “Ow.”

The guy has his hand still planted over his hair, and slowly, Ben mumbles into the ground, “Jacob.”

The fingers tighten, as if intending to pull him upwards by his hair, but then Jacob appears to change his mind and just lets Ben raise himself the rest of the way. 

He’s a mess, of course. His eyes are puffy with sleep, half of his face has dirt on it and he cut his lip when he went down, but that seems to suit Ben so well that it’s possible he doesn’t even notice it anymore.

“Are you… really him?”

It’s a rare admission of ignorance from Ben Linus, brought on by a concoction of who knows what from his time on the Island. Possibly, he's starting to learn, but Jacob seems to believe it’s too late for that. And besides, even if he were starting to, that was no guarantee it would continue. Faith shouldn’t be put in a flawed saviour.

“Give me a good reason why I shouldn’t,” Jacob says, “And I won’t be.”

As always, that infuriating impassivity that seems to haunt both Jacob and this new man, John, shines right through and hits Ben just as hard as the impassivity with which Jacob had evidently been watching him on the Island, for all forty eight years of his life. “I haven't got one.”

“Then yes, I am.” Jacob reaches toward Ben, doesn’t touch but still turns his mouth to the light by way of the space between them. Ben follows his direction, and seems to notice the cut for the first time.

“Did you have to give me a new set of bruises?”

“You were trying to kill me,” Jacob says, mildly, before dipping his index finger into his own mouth and then reaching forward again, pressing the pad of it against the cut's red line. It throbs with Ben’s pulse through his finger, eking out blood, and Ben just stares at him.

When he follows it with his mouth, Linus almost doesn’t seem surprised, but the first beat is all Jacob's and he takes it, wantonly. Then Ben starts to fight back, biting his bottom lip and being so unruly it may even be him who forces them into each other’s mouths. Either way, Jacob doesn’t stop himself from licking eagerly at the blood, feeling the sanguine taste on his tongue, and the result is a hot, wet mess of lips and saliva and biting.

When Jacob pulls away, then darts back, pressing small grazed kisses to the line of Ben’s jaw and down under its hollow, Linus finally asks, “What are you doing?” A little moroseness has sunk into his tone, almost like it can’t help but be there, and Jacob arches the curve of his teeth around Ben’s jugular vein for a moment, before moving away.

“You wanted me,” he says, “You begged for me. All that you’ve done-” He catches himself, then raises his hands to place on either one of Ben’s shoulders - the guy flinches before letting him settle them there. “And now, you don’t want me at all?”

He ghosts back in, watching Ben from the corner of his eye, and refuses to close his own, nuzzling into the mortal man’s ear and kissing his earlobe.

“It’s- not that.” Linus shivers; he feels it all the way through him.

Jacob hums low in his chest, before taking Linus’s earlobe between his teeth and biting down on it, “What is it, then?” Perhaps he should be giving the man a prize for being taciturn for once.

“You,” Ben swallows, turning his head to give Jacob a better angle, a more vulnerable angle. “You sound exactly like me.”

When he opens his eyes to an empty tent and the muted sounds of his followers just starting to wake up, he can’t say he isn’t surprised.


End file.
